In My Time of Dying
by CastieltheCompanion
Summary: Dean gets mauled by a werewolf on a hunting trip, and Cas comes back for him after walking into the lake possessed by Leviathons.


The werewolf, now fully a la mode, reared its head back and howled wildly. It faced them with quick snap of its head, animalistic blue eyes glinting fiercely in the darkness of the forest.

Dean and Sam each took an uneasy step back, clenching their fists and moving their hands slowly towards their holsters. The werewolf grinned wolfishly and growled at Sam, swiveling around threateningly towards him.

"Sam, watch out," Dean warned with a tone of desperation. Sam swallowed and nodded once, gritting his teeth and wrapping his hand fully around the butt of the gun.

Suddenly the werewolf, snarling and bearing inhuman teeth, pounced at Sam just as he quickly whipped out the gun and unloaded two shots towards the creature. It pinned him down, causing Sam to drop his gun as he thrashed with it, shoving its snarling face away from his own.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, worry but mostly anger stinging his voice. "Get offa him, you sonuva bitch-"

Dean clawed at the thing's bulging shoulders tearing at Sam and yanked it backwards. Screeching, it reluctantly flew off of Sam's fighting body and faced Dean angrily. Dean grit his teeth and growled back, placing his gun on the forest floor. "Let's dance, ugly. You and me, no weapons," Dean grinned, anger hardening in his green eyes.

Sam sat up and clutched for his gun, looking back over his shoulder at Dean and the werewolf. It grinned with a smug snarl, circling Dean's smaller body mass.

Dean returned a smirk, circling with it carefully. It suddenly grimaced and snapped its teeth and, roaring and with acute reflexes, leaped at Dean, claws unsheathed.

Dean roared right back and jumped at it, managing a right hook to the creature's jaw. Enraged, it clasped Dean's left arm and ripped it to the other side, spinning Dean around.

"Whoa! Hey! No fair playin' dirty!" Dean shouted, and without even enough time to clutch his injured socket, the werewolf tore into Dean's exposed back, and again, and again. Dean fell to his knees without a sound, gurgling slightly as Sam screamed his name and the werewolf delivered one last blow in between his shoulders, shoving him forward into the ground.

Sam roared unintelligible words at it and unloaded the gun into the werewolf's chest, running at the thing as Dean lay still in the forest leaves, blood leaking from between his lips.

A silver bullet finally pierced straight through the creature's heart and, howling, it pulled its head into its chest and covered itself as it changed back, howling with pain. It stammered backward as Sam continued to unload into its chest without mercy, watching the creature die a bloody death as a human. He fired until the gun clicked empty, threw it down and crashed to his knees beside Dean.

"Dean! Dean, please!" Sam begged, shoving his shoulder gently and inspecting the wounds. "It's gonna be okay, Dean. Cas!" he shouted upwards desperately. "Cas, please, Dean's hurt, he's hurt real bad and I don't know what to do, Cas, please," Sam tried again, furrowing his brows in frustration. "Dean needs you."

He waited and snapped back down to Dean when he coughed. "It's okay, Dean, I'll get you out of here," he mumbled to his brother, wrapping his jacket around his wounds. "You're okay."

-

Bobby crossed his arms and sighed as Sam turned to him, frowning.

"He probably needs to sleep for a while, and as long as he's sleeping he'll heal," Sam said quietly.

Bobby sighed again. "That idjit," he muttered, staring at Dean's lifeless body in the other room. "He didn't have to go and take that werewolf head-on, without a weapon. What was he thinking?"

Sam gave a small shrug and frowned. Bobby kept his gaze on Dean and tsked, then shook his head.

"He's had worse," Sam reassured, crossing his arms worriedly.

Bobby tsked again. "Idjit," he mumbled before shaking his head in concern and walking away.

"He'll wake up eventually," Sam assured himself in a quiet voice. "He has to. It's not his time of dying. Not yet." He winced and turned away from Dean's broken body, remembering the last time his brother was torn to shreds like this. But this was just a stupid werewolf, a case they should've taken easily.

Swallowing, Sam glanced one last time at his brother and upwards, silently begging for Cas. _Please, Castiel, if you can hear me,_ he prayed for the umpteenth time that day, _please help him. Dean needs you,_ he concluded.

He paused, hoping maybe something heavenly would happen, but after a few minutes he sighed and strode off into the kitchen to meet Bobby.

-

Dean remembered ripping the thing off his brother and challenging it, mano a mano. And then the satisfying punch, and the painful jerk around, and then just pain. He remembered the first swipe of its claws into his back, but everything after that was just pressure on pressure. He remembered his knees giving out and trying to say something, to his brother, maybe, then the leaves on his face and dull throbbing. He remembered opening his eyes against the dirt, wet dripping from his mouth as the pain coursed dully throughout his torn body. He remembered his brother's disembodied screams and gunshots and a howl, a final howl. He remembered closing his eyes with some effort as images of Sam and him as little kids flashed before his eyes. His father, their Christmases, even his mother, all the best memories. Lisa and Ben, smiling, laughing, all of them together.

He tried clearing his thoughts through all the noise and pain screaming at him.

_Did I fall asleep? Is this all a dream?_

"Dean." A perfect voice echoed above all others. "Cas?" he tried to mumble, but all that came out was a throaty gurgle.

_Wake me up, Cas,_ he thought weakly. He furrowed his brow. _Why was Cas here?_ Then it struck him: He must've been seriously hurt, or dead.

But Dick was still out there, his mess was still out there; he couldn't die yet. _I will not die._ He chanted it in his head stubbornly. _I will survive._ He felt a cool hand press against his forehead for a moment before his vision slacked completely and he shut down into a defensive sleep.

-

Dean groaned. He turned his head heavily against the pillow, the cool fabric chilling his hot cheeks. He struggled to open his eyes against the blinding light of daylight, shadowed by a figure standing next to him. His vision cleared slightly and he frowned at the figure.

"Cas?" he mumbled, trying not to move. Cas leaned in with his big sad eyes and said nothing, only reached for Dean's hand for a moment. Dean tried to smile and grimaced with effort, his eyes slacking again and going dark.

"I'm still here, Dean. I won't leave," was the last thing he heard before sleep took over and blackened his numb mind.

-

"Dean?" Sam was leaning next to his brother, scrutinizing his face for movement. But Dean lay motionless, barely breathing.

Sam frowned and gripped his brother's surprisingly warm hand still focused on Dean's lifeless expression. "Wake up, Dean," he mumbled, tightening his lips. "You've had worse, so suck it up, you jerk, and wake up. I need you."

Dean remained unresponsive.

Sighing, Sam stood up and walked out, his eyes lingering on Dean's still body. Bobby greeted him in the kitchen.

"How is he?" he asked with his arms crossed.

Sam sat down at the table and opened his laptop in a disappointed huff. "I got nothing," he muttered, clicking away.

Bobby nodded, understanding. "Any word from our angel?"

Sam shook his head with a frown. Bobby sighed. "He better wake up soon," he grumbled, opening a beer. "We need the poor bastard."

Sam sighed. "Yeah," he agreed, looking up at Bobby. "Yeah, I do."

-

Dean's eyes shot open this time. He gulped in a breath of air, gasping, and looked around with wide, adrenaline-pumped eyes. "Guh!" he panted, shaking his head. His whole body was killing him, and it felt like he was being set on fire and torn to pieces as acid and salt rubbed in his wounds. "Ahh," he breathed heavily, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Shh, Dean, it's okay," a soft voice whispered next to his ear. He jerked towards the noise in confusion, gritting his teeth and looked back up again. "Cas!" he sputtered through his ground teeth. "Cas, what happened to y-"

Cas reached over and settled his hand on Dean's chest, never leaving his eyes. The pain slowly faded to nothing as Dean stared at his hand, controlling his breathing.

"Thanks, buddy. Where've you been?" Dean sighed in relief.

Cas just frowned and looked down. "I can't tell you," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean pouted. "C'mon, you can tell me anything. Team Free Will, remember?"

Cas shook his head. "No, I can't tell you because I don't know. I thought I was dead, and then I was here, but I can't heal you the way I used to, and I can't return to Heaven."

Dean squinted. "Then where do you go when you're not here?"

Cas met his eyes, gazing deeply. "I never leave." He said firmly, sadness swirling in his big blue eyes.

Dean's face flushed, but he pushed it down. "Does Sam know? Or Bobby?"

Cas shook his head again. "I have not revealed myself to them yet."

Dean smirked. "That might be a vital bit of information to tell them, buddy," he joked, trying to be cheery.

Cas cocked his head. "I do not think they are supposed to know," he said straightly.

Dean made a face. "Whassat supposed to mean?"

Cas pursed his lips. "You should sleep," he mused, reaching towards Dean, who frowned. "What about Sam? And Bobby?"

"They'll be alright. You need to heal."

Dean locked eyes with Cas before he could proceed with his angel malarkey. "Thank you, Cas."

Cas hesitated. "Of course, Dean."

Dean softened his expression. "No, really, thank you, for- for staying 'n everything. I- I feel alive when… you're beside me,"

Cas softened his eyes, and pressed his hand against Dean's forehead once more, who felt himself suddenly drift to sleep under his touch.

-

Dean woke up groggily again, blinking away the sunlight spilling onto his bed. "Cas?" he whispered, reaching his hand up to wipe his eyes.

"Dean?" Sam's quirky voice penetrated his thoughts. Pain now throbbed through his head harder than before.

"Hey, Sammy," he managed, wincing from the effort. "Where's Cas?"

Sam frowned. "Cas is- gone, Dean, remember? He walked into the lake- well, the leviathans did," Sam spoke carefully, unsure of Dean's mental health.

Dean furrowed his brow. "He was here," he slurred, gesturing to his side through the pain.  
Sam shook his head. "No, he hasn't been back since he disappeared. We found his trenchcoat. Remember, Dean?"

Dean shook his head stubbornly. "I want Cas," he announced with certainty.

Sam sighed. "He's not coming, Dean."

Dean shook his head again, like an obstinate little kid. "I will wait," he said defiantly. "I'll wait here for you, Cas."

Sam breathed heavily with pressed lips. "Just… go back to sleep, Dean."

He groaned in response and squeezed his eyes shut. "Why don't I have any goddamn painkillers!" he hollered with increasing volume.

"Sounds like Sleeping Ugly in there woke up," Bobby's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Tell him to suck it up and quit bein' a baby, and that we got stuff to do,"

Sam sighed again. "He's sleeping again, Bobby. Let him sleep,"

Bobby tsked from the other room. "Idjit!" he sneered under his breath. But his face bore a wide smile.

-

Dean tossed and turned, sweaty with pain and exhaust. _I feel like death warmed up,_ he thought miserably. _I will not die. I have to wait for Cas._

"Dean."

Dean's eyes shot open, bloodshot with sleeplessness. "Hey, Cas, buddy," he smiled weakly.

"I feel more alive when I'm by your side, too," Cas said quietly and affirmatively.

"What?" Dean scrunched his nose.

"You complete me, Dean."

Dean blushed, his heavy head swirling with newfound emotion. "Uhh… thanks, Cas. You too,"

Cas smiled, a thin, weary smile that made Dean chuckle slightly. "Cas, you look like hell. What have you been up to, anyways?"

"I watch you sleep, and try to ease your pain. It takes a lot, since I'm not a fully restored angel, but my bond to Heaven is improving."

Dean shook his head and smiled. "You're such a creep sometimes, yunno that?"

Cas looked hurt. "I only wanted to ensure your well-being," he mumbled, almost whining.

Dean wheezed a laugh. "Naw, it's a good thing. I like creepy," he smiled fondly and winked.

Cas beamed. "I can be creepier, if you like, Dean."

Dean shook his head. "No no no, Cas, buddy, you are perfectly creepy the way you are."


End file.
